Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 106(@200wpm)___ 85(@250wpm)___ 71(@300wpm)
I wave and blow kisses at Dahlia.
“Bye girlfriend. Bye sweetie! I love you,” I call to them both. Then, we hang up and I plop lifelessly backwards on my couch. It’s always good to talk with Maggie because my friend has such great perspective on things. If she says that I’m better off without Randy Sterling, then I probably am. But still, he was incredibly gorgeous, and it felt soooo good to be taken by a real man. I can still feel his broad hands on my waist, gripping tight as he shafted me again and again.
But what am I doing? I can’t be daydreaming about Randy Sterling when I have no hope of ever seeing him again. He’s already made that abundantly clear with his silence, and my cat Calico lets out a meow of agreement. I snort while patting her head.
“It’s just you and me, okay Cal?” I say in a sour tone. “I’ll die a spinster, and people will come to my abandoned apartment only to find you and a billion other cats mrowling about hungrily for food.”
She lets out another yowl, and I slump deeper into the couch cushions. Dang. I didn’t think my cat would agree, but it seems that I really am going to die alone while dreaming of the handsome Randy Sterling.
2
Sam
I let out a small sigh as I scroll through my phone for the umpteenth time in the last couple of hours. It’s almost dead and yet I’m so lazy that I can’t even be bothered to get up from the couch to find my charger. Maybe once it dies, I’ll finally be motivated to start working on the crap ton of assignments that are all due before the week is out. Or maybe I’ll just slump down and hope that the couch swallows me whole instead. Yeah, that sounds more enjoyable.
I’m just so low on energy, not to mention still bummed out and annoyed because of Randy. I just can’t stop thinking about the firefighter no matter how hard I try. I know it’s ridiculous because our hook-up happened months ago, yet I remember every little detail as if it took place just yesterday. The way he manhandled me so easily and put me in the positions that he wanted me to be in. The way he kissed me as if it was the last time that he’d ever get to kiss a woman in his life. The way he growled the filthiest words into my ear and held me with those big, strong hands of his while I had orgasm after orgasm…
And then, radio silence. The gorgeous hunk of a man left me high and dry. WTF? Even worse, why did he ask for my number if he didn’t intend to use it? He could have just sent me on my way with a pat on the ass and a ‘thanks, that was fun!’ and left it at that, but instead he had to get my hopes up, only to cruelly dash them later. It’s so wrong!
Oh well. I guess I should just stop dwelling on it and move on. Be a big girl, and pull your big girl panties up, I admonish myself. But then I slump back into the sofa, boneless once more, all motivation evaporating from my limp body. I scroll through Instagram again, staring at pictures of handsome men with their square jaws and broad, bronzed chests. Henry Cavill, Ryan Reynolds, and Tom Hardy. Now this is what I call healing.
I’m just about to start watching some mindless TikTok videos when suddenly, my head quirks. What was that? Then, I realize it’s the silence making my ears ring because it’s been a while since I last heard my cat prancing around. That’s weird. Where’s Calico? My eyes narrow as I slowly sit up.
My apartment is pretty small so I should be able to hear her doing her thing. But only silence greets my ears, and I sit up straighter, a little uneasy. Calico never goes outside because she’s strictly an indoor cat, and wouldn’t even know what to do if she were out in the big world. She’s a homebody who likes to bat her yarn balls around or knock things off my counter for no reason other than to be a jerk. If she’s not into something, she’s usually sunbathing in front of the window or sleeping under my bed.
I walk around a bit, my senses alert. Where is that damn cat? My apartment is tiny, so there aren’t many places she could be. It’s just a one bedroom, so I look around the shabby living room and kitchen before heading into my bedroom. It’s a cozy space with a purple comforter covering the mattress, as well tapestries and polaroids pinned to the walls. And, of course, I’ve got some things for Calico, like her cat bed and a few cat trees and toys to keep her amused.